


The Protagonist's Break

by cherryberg



Category: Original Work
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I am scared of Proge, Narrator being a lowkey asshole, Protagonist speaks like uwu, Tea, disembodied voice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 12:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15509805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryberg/pseuds/cherryberg
Summary: The Protagonist wakes up and has a normal, relaxing day. The Narrator gets suspicious and investigates.





	The Protagonist's Break

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt by @writing-prompt-s on tumblr: The protagonist wakes up and has a normal day. The narrator gets suspicious.

It was a nice, swell day and the Narrator was excited. Why? Because the day before ended with a bang. Literally. The Protagonist stole riches from a dragon, blew up the lair belonging to the said dragon and casually walked home like it was nothing! This could only mean that the Writer’s up to something; something really good. For all we know, the still alive dragon could be on the Protagonist’s tail, ready to strike at any given time.

Peering down at the Protagonist’s home, the Narrator did their job and began reading what the Writer had set out for the Protagonist for that chapter.

Strangely enough, the Narrator only finished a single sentence before getting a sense of suspicion. What was happening? A protagonist of a fantasy novel filled with action and a dab of unrequited romance does not simply ‘get out of bed, cheery for they remembered what they had accomplished the day before’. This was definitely something worth investigating.

The Narrator decided that spying on the Protagonist's current activities, which were rather relaxing, to say the least, was the best course of action. Nice and relaxing. That was how the Narrator would describe the Protagonist’s activities. Once again, it was very peculiar.

\---  
The Protagonist found it rather odd that the Narrator was staying so quiet throughout the day thus far. They found the Narrator to be quite a chatterbox considering that they had to read whatever the Writer wrote, which was usually plenty. The Protagonist was happy that this chapter was going to be a long one; definitely going to be one of their favourite chapters.

Eventually, the silence got to the Protagonist. They thought the silence was calming but, as the day progressed, it was getting eerie and suspicious. The Narrator couldn’t just disappear like that, could they? As the sun was at its highest, the Protagonist began to internally panic about the Narrator’s wellbeing.

“Uh… Narri...?” No answer. “N-Narri...” Once again, silence was the answer the Protagonist received. Panic started to take control as the Protagonist jumped out of their seat, ready to investigate the reason for this silence. The Narrator was a talkative one after all. “Narri! I’ll save you!”

This time, they got an answer but they didn’t expect it to be a booming “What?! No!” that echoed across the land of wherever and whatnot.

“Well, you’re certainly alive,” The Protagonist responded rather sassily, calming down as the Narrator cleared their throat. The Protagonist plopped back onto their seat, wondering whether or not they were going to be lectured about something.

“Hello Protagonist,” The Narrator greeted, rather nonchalantly but it was expected from them, “Why are you currently not risking your life for an entire village or-or rescuing a damsel in peril?”

“I asked Riri if I could take a break from all the dragons and brawls and whatever. It’s just for today,” The Protagonist sunk into their chair to add some emphasis on how comfortable and relaxed they were, “Not to worry.”

“Riri?” The Narrator questioned both the name and why the Writer had given a fearless hero such a uwu personality. What a monster they had created.

“The Writer,” The Protagonist explained, groaning as if they expected the Narrator to already be aware of their use of nicknames for the characters.

“Alright, I’ve heard the nickname Narri used for myself but never heard Riri before... Do you have nicknames for everyone?” The Narrator was a little curious. It wasn’t like the Narrator and the Protagonist talk to each other constantly, it usually is a one-sided conversation anyway.

“Indeed I do! I’m Proge, Writer’s Riri, you’re Narri and Antagonist is Antag!” Proge exclaimed proudly, “I’m working on more…”

“Honestly, why don’t we have actual names?” Narri sighed, questions now filling their mind. Questions they have never thought about before. They usually ignored them because the Narrator found it dangerous to question the Writer, the basic god of this world.

“I don’t think I have the right to ask,” The Protagonist shrugged, reaching over to the small table that sat next to then pour a cup of tea for themselves. “Riri’s their own person. If they choose to not give us any names, so be it. This is their world, their fantasy.” Narri sighed sharply in understanding. “Tea?” Proge offered.

“Sure.” With that single word, the Protagonist poured the Narrator a cup of hot tea and handed it to an open space. The cup flew out of the Protagonist’s hand and just floated there in the middle of the room, suspended in the air.

All was peaceful. All was quiet. The bluebirds were singing a cheery tune as they flew about; around trees and around meadows. Proge sat there in silence as they drank their tea. Narri stayed silent for they knew that all was right, just for today.

Until the floating cup tilted and its hot liquid slipped onto the floor.

The Protagonist stared at the floating cup in silence, assuming that the Narrator is staring back at them. A few awkward blinks later, Proge broke the silence.

“You spilt tea.”

“Yes.”

“On my floor.”

“Indeed.”

“Hot tea.”

“Correct.”

“...Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you spill tea, hot tea, onto my floor?”

“I’m literally a disembodied voice. I can’t drink this and you are technically talking to yourself.”

The Protagonist can only assume that the Narrator is smirking as the cup is dropped, splashing into its puddle of tea. With that, the Narrator left the Protagonist’s home. They knew that Proge wanted some peace on this fine day and the simple action of spilling tea was enough chaos for them right now.

The Narrator didn’t fret for the next day was going to be action-packed and difficult for Proge, or whatever that slightly annoying heroin called themselves. Narri made sure of it.


End file.
